Chapter III

Till all have ceased for ever, and the sum
Be summed of all the sumless curses told
Out on his head by all dark seasons rolled
Over its cursed and crowned existence, dumb
And blind and stark as though the snows made numb
All sense within it, and all conscience cold,
That hangs round hearts of less imperial mould
Like a snake feeding till their doomsday come.
O heart fast bound of frozen poison, be
All nature's as all true men's hearts to thee,
A two-edged sword of judgment; hope be far
And fear at hand for pilot oversea
With death for compass and despair for star,
And the white foam a shroud for the White Czar.

_September 30, 1880._

_SIX YEARS OLD._

To H.W.M.

Between the springs of six and seven,
Two fresh years' fountains, clear
Of all but golden sand for leaven,
Child, midway passing here,
As earth for love's sake dares bless heaven,
So dare I bless you, dear.

Between two bright well-heads, that brighten
With every breath that blows
Too loud to lull, too low to frighten,
But fain to rock, the rose,
Your feet stand fast, your lit smiles lighten,
That might rear flowers from snows.

You came when winds unleashed were snarling
Behind the frost-bound hours,
A snow-bird sturdier than the starling,
A storm-bird fledged for showers,
That spring might smile to find you, darling,
First born of all the flowers.

Could love make worthy things of worthless,
My song were worth an ear:
Its note should make the days most mirthless
The merriest of the year,
And wake to birth all buds yet birthless
To keep your birthday, dear.

But where your birthday brightens heaven
No need has earth, God knows,
Of light or warmth to melt or leaven
The frost or fog that glows
With sevenfold heavenly lights of seven
Sweet springs that cleave the snows.

Could love make worthy music of you,
And match my Master's powers,
Had even my love less heart to love you,
A better song were ours;
With all the rhymes like stars above you,
And all the words like flowers.

_September 30, 1880._

_A PARTING SONG._

(To a friend leaving England for a year's residence in Australia.)

These winds and suns of spring That warm with breath and wing The trembling sleep of earth, till half awake She laughs and blushes ere her slumber break, For all good gifts they bring Require one better thing, For all the loans of joy they lend us, borrow One sharper dole of sorrow, To sunder soon by half a world of sea Her son from England and my friend from me.

Nor hope nor love nor fear May speed or stay one year, Nor song nor prayer may bid, as mine would fain, The seasons perish and be born again, Restoring all we lend, Reluctant, of a friend, The voice, the hand, the presence and the sight That lend their life and light To present gladness and heart-strengthening cheer, Now lent again for one reluctant year.

So much we lend indeed, Perforce, by force of need, So much we must; even these things and no more The far sea sundering and the sundered shore A world apart from ours, So much the imperious hours, Exact, and spare not; but no more than these All earth and all her seas From thought and faith of trust and truth can borrow, Not memory from desire, nor hope from sorrow.

Through bright and dark and bright Returns of day and night I bid the swift year speed and change and give His breath of life to make the next year live With sunnier suns for us A life more prosperous, And laugh with flowers more fragrant, that shall see A merrier March for me, A rosier-girdled race of night with day, A goodlier April and a tenderer May.

For him the inverted year Shall mark our seasons here With alien alternation, and revive This withered winter, slaying the spring alive With darts more sharply drawn As nearer draws the dawn In heaven transfigured over earth transformed And with our winters warmed And wasted with our summers, till the beams Rise on his face that rose on Dante's dreams.

Till fourfold morning rise Of starshine on his eyes, Dawn of the spheres that brand steep heaven across At height of night with semblance of a cross Whose grace and ghostly glory Poured heaven on purgatory Seeing with their flamelets risen all heaven grow glad For love thereof it had And lovely joy of loving; so may these Make bright with welcome now their southern seas.

O happy stars, whose mirth The saddest soul on earth That ever soared and sang found strong to bless, Lightening his life's harsh load of heaviness With comfort sown like seed In dream though not in deed On sprinkled wastes of darkling thought divine, Let all your lights now shine With all as glorious gladness on his eyes For whom indeed and not in dream they rise.

As those great twins of air Hailed once with oldworld prayer Of all folk alway faring forth by sea, So now may these for grace and guidance be, To guard his sail and bring Again to brighten spring The face we look for and the hand we lack Still, till they light him back, As welcome as to first discovering eyes Their light rose ever, soon on his to rise.

As parting now he goes From snow-time back to snows, So back to spring from summer may next year Restore him, and our hearts receive him here, The best good gift that spring Had ever grace to bring At fortune's happiest hour of star-blest birth Back to love's homebright earth, To eyes with eyes that commune, hand with hand, And the old warm bosom of all our mother-land.

Earth and sea-wind and sea And stars and sunlight be Alike all prosperous for him, and all hours Have all one heart, and all that heart as ours. All things as good as strange Crown all the seasons' change With changing flower and compensating fruit From one year's ripening root; Till next year bring us, roused at spring's recall, A heartier flower and goodlier fruit than all.

_March 26, 1880._

BY THE NORTH SEA

TO WALTER THEODORE WATTS.

'We are what suns and winds and waters make us.'--LANDOR.

_Sea, wind, and sun, with light and sound and breath
The spirit of man fulfilling--these create
That joy wherewith man's life grown passionate
Gains heart to hear and sense to read and faith
To know the secret word our Mother saith
In silence, and to see, though doubt wax great,
Death as the shadow cast by life on fate,
Passing, whose shade we call the shadow of death.

Brother, to whom our Mother as to me
Is dearer than all dreams of days undone,
This song I give you of the sovereign three
That are as life and sleep and death are, one:
A song the sea-wind gave me from the sea,
Where nought of man's endures before the sun._

BY THE NORTH SEA